


Bad Ideas

by misbegotten



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-12
Updated: 2010-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:27:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they kiss, Chuck knows it's a bad idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> For the comment fic prompt: Chuck/any, the first time they kissed Chuck knew it was a bad idea. Spoilers for 2x11, Chuck Versus Santa Clause

The first time they kiss, Chuck knows it's a bad idea. Casey has already invaded every part of his life; heck, he can't even masturbate without the guy on the other end of a mic. But here he is, being silenced by Casey's lips on his. It's probably a standard spy maneuver -- they are behind the door, just inches from the bad guy that Chuck had flashed on, and he has a habit of getting babbly in the aftermath of a flash. Sure, maybe Casey could have just put his hand over Chuck's mouth instead but... It's probably procedure, but Casey's tongue swiping inside his mouth sure isn't in any of the manuals Chuck has read.

Chuck bites his own tongue to stop from making a startled meep, and immediately wishes he hadn't. Ow. He tentatively swipes back, and is rewarded by a hitch in Casey's breath. Casey fists his hand into Chuck's tie and brings him closer, and wow, the first time they rub against each other Chuck knows it is a _really_ bad idea. Because now he is going to want every part of Casey in his life.

Casey holds up a hand before Chuck can get too enthusiastic. "We're clear," he mutters. He looks back at Chuck, gaping helplessly, and tosses off a grin. "What's the matter Bartowski? Never heard of an adrenaline rush?"

*

Chuck's getting used to compartmentalizing his life. Morgan, Ellie, Sarah, making out like a teenager with Casey on Casey's couch. Yeah, that one is pretty compartmentalized. Chuck's in his favorite compartment right now, and Casey is sucking on his collarbone like he's a tender piece of spare rib. Not that Chuck minds. His hands are under Casey's Buy More greens, nails sketching patterns on the canvas of Casey's back, and Casey mutters something that sounds like "harder" so Chuck complies.

Casey hitches his leg just right so their cocks say hello, and Chuck groans. "I've got another one of those adrenaline rushes," he says.

Casey smirks. "I can take care of that."

Much, much later, as he drifts to sleep with Casey's arms sprawled across his chest, he thinks that the first time they kissed it was _such_ a good idea.

*

"Casey, wake up. Wake up, Casey. Wake up, wake up." Chuck's trying not to sound needy, but the blow Casey took to the head was pretty hard and Chuck's getting worried about how long he's been out. They're tied back to back so Chuck can only feel Casey's head lolling against his own, which is hardly reassuring.

"Listen, Casey you gotta wake up. I'm really sorry about this." Chuck isn't sure why he is apologizing. Being the Intersect is what he is _supposed_ to do, but it always comes at the worst times, like during routine surveillance on a bar looking for a suspected double agent. Naturally the Intersect decides to buzz on an arms dealer and potential client instead. The fact that the dealer had backup in the form of three armed thugs is just bad luck. The fact that Sarah took after the client is just bad timing. The fact that Chuck was helpless to do anything when the thugs dragged him from the SUV and used him as a hostage is just par for the course.

"Casey, Casey, Casey, Casey, Casey."

"Shut up, goofball."

"Oh thank god, Casey."

"That's my name, don't wear it out."

"Are you concussed?"

"Probably."

Chuck's been working at their bonds with no luck. The detonator ticking down next to him has been a good motivator, though. "We've got less than a minute to get out of here."

Casey grunts and says darkly, his voice edged with pain, "Push!" They lunge together and make it to a standing position, and begin a sort of crab-walk to the door. "Faster," Chuck urges, the countdown still within eyeshot. "Faster, faster."

Casey huffs and then actually lifts Chuck off his feet and scrambles to the door with Chuck on his back. They push through into the warm night air and on past the SUV where it is still parked, until Casey throws them both down on the ground and a peaceful California evening is shattered by the bomb.

Casey does this thing with his shoulders -- he really needs to teach Chuck that trick -- and the ropes that tie them loosen. Chuck squirms out of the bonds and turns to Casey, reflexively checking his pupils and looking for bruises. Ellie and Devon would be proud, he thinks, or at least he starts to before Casey grabs Chuck's face and pulls him into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

Chuck knows he's grinning inanely, but PDA is not really Casey's thing. "What was that about?" he asks, licking his lips like he can still taste Casey there. "Adrenaline rush?"

Casey turns away and pulls himself off the ground. "That was goodbye, Chuck," he says softly. "We're done."

"What?" There's a burning building just feet from where they're standing and there are sirens from emergency personnel in the distance, and Chuck is pretty sure he must have lost his hearing in the explosion. "What are you talking about? We're not done. We can't be done."

Casey slams him against the side of the SUV and growls into his ear, "We're done if I say we're done."

"No," Chuck protests, his heart beating out of his chest. "It doesn't work like that. You don't get to say that. What did I do?"

His grip on Chuck's shirt loosens, but Casey still has him pinned. "I hesitated, Bartowski. They used you for a shield and I didn't take the shot. I've been compromised. We're done."

"You've been _compromised_?" Chuck asks incredulously. "That's a funny way of saying you care about me."

Chuck never expected walks on the beach or candlelit dinners, but he also didn't expect Casey to dump him just for having feelings.

The first time they kissed, Chuck knew it was a bad idea.

*

Sometimes Chuck feels like his love life is the B plot in an elaborate comedy drama. Somewhere after the chase, or in this case hostage drama at the Buy More with Fulcrum in the lead roles, there's a quick cut to Chuck standing in Casey's living room trying to get back together with his boyfriend by discussing death.

"So Sarah killed a Fulcrum agent for me," Chuck says.

"That's sweet," Casey snarls. He's stretched out on the couch, an arm over his eyes. His foot is obviously hurting him, though he refuses to go to the hospital. "Did she leave his body on your pillow like a good kitty cat?"

"You must be mad that you didn't get to it," Chuck retorts. "I know that it's your _job_, to protect the Intersect."

"It _is_ my job, Bartowski. It isn't my job to protect Walker's lady feelings. Or yours, for that matter. Now get out of here so I can rest in peace."

Chuck knows that Casey doesn't mean it that way, but after watching Sarah gun down a man in cold blood the phrase "rest in peace" sends a chill through him. "No," he says stubbornly. Carefully, with a gentleness that he's learned from Ellie cleaning up his scrapes over the years, he slides Casey's feet up and settles on the couch. With both hands, he takes Casey's uninjured foot and removes the shoe and the sock. Casey grunts, but he doesn't pull away and Chuck slides his hand along the ball of Casey's foot, rubbing hard, along the instep, the sole, until Casey makes a growly purring sound.

"I'm really sorry about your toe," Chuck murmurs. "And that you didn't get to kill the bad guy."

Casey opens one eye and peers at Chuck. "Roan would flunk your seduction technique." He stretches, his bare toes digging into Chuck's crotch.

"Ow!" Chuck protests. "As opposed to yours?" But he doesn't dislodge Casey's foot; Casey's toes have become a lot more friendly and hello, there's little Chuck joining the party.

"I'm not seducing you," Casey responds, his toes belying the words. "I might consider fucking you senseless, though, if you're up in my bed in say, ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Chuck squeaks, as Casey's big toe finds a sensitive spot. "Will it take you that long to hobble upstairs, big guy?"

"It'll take me that long to forget that I swore to stay the hell away from you." Casey's tone is no longer bantering. He sounds annoyed with himself. "I'm blaming it on the pain."

Chuck isn't prepared to wait around for another change of heart. He's already stripping off his shirt as he takes the stairs two at a time.

He knew the first time they kissed that it was a good idea.


End file.
